


Sine Qua Non

by frubeto



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Consent Issues, M/M, Making Out, and nothing more, early days on Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frubeto/pseuds/frubeto
Summary: Moving together comes with difficulties for every couple. For Hugh and Paul, it's different than misplaced socks.





	Sine Qua Non

**Author's Note:**

> Not being 100% on either side of the spectrum can feel like moving around on it like a gymnast on a balancing beam, depending on company, circumstance, and the position of the moon.
> 
> So that's kinda what went into this fic.

 

 

Hugh enters their quarters having just come off shift and stops dead almost immediately.

 

“Well...”

 

Sprawled out on the bed in nothing but underwear is a freshly showered Paul, a PADD at his chest, and Hugh very much appreciates the look.

 

“That’s something I could get used to.”

 

Paul acknowledges him only with a distracted “Hm?”, his mind occupied with the new data he received from the lab, not paying much attention to his surroundings until Hugh has crawled on top of him and leans down for a kiss. It’s soft and light, and he smiles into it, dropping the PADD and bringing a hand up to hold Hugh’s face and deepen it. Since they started sharing quarters on Discovery, things have been stressful, both of their jobs forcing them to work extra hard at the beginning of the mission – which is why this is unexpected.

Paul has been exceedingly preoccupied, usually resulting in both of them saying things they shouldn’t and a fight, but apparently, they’re okay. He sighs with relief, and sinks further into the kiss.

 

Then Hugh shifts, letting Paul feel the beginning of an erection press against the inside of his thigh, and he draws back startled. Oh.

Hugh takes that as his cue to move lower, kissing his neck now, and Paul feels himself react to the touch as well. This is _not_ the direction he expected this to take. So when Hugh starts biting teasingly, moaning softly as if Paul hasn’t only just caught on, he tenses with an uneasy sound in his throat.

Hugh freezes, then gets back on all fours to look him in the eye.

 

“Okay. _What_.”

 

It might have come out harsher than intended, but this has been happening for quite some time, in one way or another, under varying circumstances, and it has always ended with Hugh getting turned down with a lame excuse or none at all, and frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.

 

“I’m… not in the mood.”

 

“Seriously?! You’ve been telling me that for weeks.”

 

“Well, it’s the truth, what do you want me to say?!” Paul snaps at him, and infuriated by the sheer stubbornness of the man, Hugh lowers his hips so that they can both clearly feel Paul’s _mood_ , and ignores him shifting uncomfortably beneath him.

 

“I remain unconvinced,” he says, moving pointedly, then makes his way down to mouth at Paul through the thin fabric, fingers trailing along and resting at his legs.

 

“This doesn’t feel like ‘ _not in the mood’_ to me.”

 

Paul feels sick, discomfort crawling like a million tiny spiders on his insides and rising to his throat, where he swallows and quenches it, and resist a serious urge to put his foot on Hugh’s shoulder and literally kick him off the bed. Instead he squirms upwards away from him and jumps up.

 

“Fucking _hell,_ are you even listening to yourself?!” He takes a breath as he waits for the rest of the words to find their way from his brain. “Yes, I have a functioning penis. Doesn’t mean I have any obligation to use it!”

 

He storms off, wanting to get away, not even sure where to, but Hugh is on his feet in an instant and grabs him by the elbow.

 

“ _Paul!_ ”

 

He tries to yank his arm back and panics for a second when he can’t. Where is this coming from all of a sudden? Hugh isn’t going to turn on him after a few weeks without sex, is he? This is _Hugh_ he’s talking about, they’ve known each other for so long, and yes, they get into arguments and they get frustrated, but it’s never anything _physical_.

 

Eventually, Hugh does let go and takes a small step back.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Paul continues to stare at him.

 

“Talk to me, please?” he continues, making no effort to conceal the annoyance in his voice. “If this is about something I did, you need to tell me. Or if something happened-”

 

His expression shifts, and his posture with it, the anger slowly giving way to concern, and it takes Paul a second to work out why.

 

“No,” he reassures him, takes a step forward and raises his hand to cup Hugh’s face, but thinks better of it.

 

“It’s nothing like that. I’m fine.”

 

Hugh seems to relax a fraction.

 

“You keep saying that, but we haven’t had sex for-” he hesitates, and Paul wonders if he’s trying not to sound like he’s been counting the days. “-a while, and you’re increasingly dismissive, and-”

 

A hand comes up to softly caress Paul’s arm in a way that makes his skin tingle. He draws back, and it falls away defeatedly.

 

“-and now I’m not even allowed to touch you.”

 

“You are,” he objects. “It’s just… when you do _that_ , it usually...”

 

Hugh takes a deep breath as he seems to understand.

 

“...ends up in bed. I get it. So what’s this about, then?”

 

“Nothing. This is normal.”

 

“You didn’t seem to have a problem before.”

 

“We weren’t exactly around each other for months at a time.”

 

Suddenly self-conscious, Paul starts to look around the room to find something to dress.

 

“My opinion on sex is… variable.”

 

His pajama bottoms are still on the floor next to the bed where he was in the middle of putting them on when his PADD had interrupted. He picks them up.

 

“Right now we appear to be in an exceptionally long period of _‘no, absolutely not, never, ew’_.”

 

He grabs the matching shirt and, once it’s over his head, takes his PADD with him to the couch while Hugh is still standing helplessly in the middle of the room.

 

“It might be _‘hell yes’_ tomorrow for all I know. Don’t worry about it.”

 

 

*

 

 

It’s not.

 

 

*

 

 

“Hey,” Paul says as he enters their quarters and finds Hugh already home and on the bed. “Did you get those reports I sent you earlier? I’d value your input.”

 

The answer he gets is a hearty moan.

 

He turns around and, at second glance, realizes Hugh is stroking himself under the blanket.

 

Great.

 

“Sorry. Do you want me to… leave?”

 

They haven’t really talked about any of this yet, and Paul begins to regret it.

 

“I want you to get over here and help.”

 

“Um.”

 

Before, there wouldn’t have been a problem.

Now, he’s mightily overwhelmed by the situation, and Hugh’s continuing breathy little moans are decidedly not helping.

Putting the PADD down he walks over to sit on the side of the bed. He can do this. This isn’t technically new. What would he usually do? _Probably not as much thinking about it_ , his mind supplies, as he carefully reaches out to cup Hugh’s face with one hand. He presses into the touch immediately, so Paul leans down for a kiss.

Hugh returns it sloppily, needing and wet, and apparently it’s not enough, because he brings up his own free hand, loosing the blanket in the process, and pulls them closer together. Paul lets him, decides to trail his fingers down to Hugh’s nipples and receives another moan in return and the hand at his neck tightens and this is – _weird_.

 

So when Hugh comes up for air, Paul disentangles himself despite some objections.

 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m gonna be much help.”

 

Hugh takes a minute, then nods with a halfhearted smile that’s meant to be understanding and directs his attention back elsewhere.

 

As does Paul.

 

With the blanket gone now, he gets the full show and can’t seem to take his eyes off the rhythmic movement that’s currently setting Hugh’s nerve endings on fire. He doesn’t know why, it’s not like he’s especially drawn to it, like he wants to feel it with his own fingers, taste the tip of it, touch all the little spots that would make Hugh squirm and thrash around in ecstasy, and likewise feel Hugh’s hands on him.

That’s what he would have wanted.

Now the thought is, if anything, unpleasant. Mostly, he’s impartial. And he’s just _staring_. At a body part that might as well be an elbow for all it does to him. He swallows, and looks back up to see Hugh watching him and breaking out in a lazy grin.

 

“You can still stay, it’s not as if I’m imagining anyone else.”

 

Paul shakes his head. This is getting out of hand.

 

“I’m gonna take a shower, will that be...”

 

Hugh nods at him.

 

“Take your time.”

 

 

*

 

 

When Hugh comes home he finds Paul sitting on the couch, one hand busy between his thighs, the other scrolling through what he can only assume is either work or porn.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Paul answers casually, still focused on the PADD, and Hugh lets himself fall down next to him, one leg under his body so he can sit sideways.

 

“Want me to help you with that?”

 

“Hm?”

 

He leans forward to touch the arm that’s still moving languidly, and nods towards Paul’s lap.

  
“Oh,” Paul says, and stops, and only then reevaluates the question.

 

“Sorry. No.”

 

Hugh nods and dutifully removes his hand, but doesn’t fully succeed in keeping the hurt from his face. He can see Paul see it.

 

“I was- it’s just- it’s not because of you.”

 

“Paul-”

 

He wants to explain himself, but suddenly realizes he can’t. Paul is right. He is taking this personally. He hasn’t expected a ‘no’, not after coming home to that. How else is he supposed to take this?

 

Next to him, Paul puts the PADD down and closes his eyes to sigh.

 

“It’s- it’s different when there’s someone else.”

 

Hugh is not convinced.

 

“I wasn’t _going anywhere_ with it.”

 

Paul underlines it with a vague yet brusque gesture, clearly irritated with his inability to describe his situation, but doesn’t elaborate.

 

“Then why-” Hugh starts, but is quickly interrupted by a noise from Paul as he gets up.

 

“...I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

 

Paul sighs.

 

“Why don’t you stop it and leave me alone.”

 

“No.”

 

He frowns as he turns back and sees Hugh fighting to reign in his anger before saying,

 

“Paul, sit down, we need to talk.”

 

Rationally, Paul knows he’s right, and he should probably follow his lead and try to have a civilized conversation, but that doesn’t stop him from being grumpy about it as he chucks the PADD back on the table and does as told.

 

“I’m sorry if I’ve been pushing you too much,” Hugh starts, and it sounds off, the grand ‘ _but’_ looming.

 

“But please understand that it’s hard to adjust to that change. Suddenly things aren’t okay anymore that were natural before.”

 

There it is.

 

“Welcome to my world,” he mutters, and when Hugh doesn’t react he stays silent for a long moment, discarding several responses until he finds one that won’t come across as aggressive.

 

“If you’re looking for a new set of rules, I can’t give you that.”

 

“You can tell me whenever you find you don’t like something.”

 

“I think I’ve been doing just that. And you didn’t like it much.”

 

“You could have been more precise.”

 

“Oh, could I now!?”

 

It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it, and he’s sitting up straight, an entire tirade forming in his mind and it’s such a shame he has to swallow it for the sake of constructiveness.

 

“Hugh. This is confusing for me, too,” he forces out instead. “Most of the time I don’t have the words to describe to you in detail what exactly is bothering me about a specific situation, so ‘no’ is about as precise as it gets, I’m afraid.”

 

He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. He’d rather get up and pace, but that would look like running off to Hugh, so he stays seated, examining the tiny scratches on his PADD before he eventually adds,

 

“And why bother, anyway.”

 

“What?”

 

“This back and forth is probably only making it worse so why don’t we just… not engage in any such activities for now and be done with it.”

 

Hugh hesitates.

 

“Is that what you want?”

 

He puts his face in his hands. He could lie, of course, but where would that get him?

 

“No, but I don’t wanna make you my guinea pig.”

 

Hugh tries a smile.

 

“Well, if you’d prefer someone else-”

 

“ _Hugh_.”

 

But he can’t keep himself from smiling with him. Still, it doesn’t seem fair to have Hugh suffering because he can’t make up his mind.

 

“What is it?” Hugh asks. Apparently his face is saying more than he is again.

 

“Wouldn’t you rather I stop altogether than, you know, start something I won’t finish?”

 

Hugh sighs. He isn’t usually one to argue that logic, but this is different.

 

“From what I understand we need to find some common ground, depending on how you’re feeling. What you’re comfortable with, and the limits of that. So I’ll be happy with anything you want to try. If it’s only a few kisses goodnight, fine. A little making out on the couch, great. If you go for something and then change your mind– Look, I’m not gonna lie, I probably won’t be happy about it, but I’ll manage.”

 

Paul nods.

 

“It’s better than you shutting me out completely,” Hugh adds and watches Paul pull one leg up to sit half cross-legged in a nervous motion. He’s still chewing over something, and Hugh waits.

 

“What if a period like this goes on for… long?”

 

Of course he’s fully aware that’s a possibility, but he doesn’t yet know how to feel about it himself. So instead, he says what he does know.

 

“Paul, I love you.”

 

But his head snaps up, gaze piercing. _That’s not what I asked_. Hugh sighs.

 

“...If you want to hear it won’t be a problem then I’m not sure I can make that promise.”

 

He leans closer and puts a hand to Paul’s knee that’s sticking out in his direction.

 

“But I’ll try and we’ll… cross that bridge when we get to it.”

 

He lets the silence stretch for a bit before making his next suggestion.

 

“How about this. You take the lead and I stop any kind of advances. I’ll let you dictate the pace. Anything even remotely sexual needs to be initiated by you.”

 

Paul turns his head up sideways to look at Hugh. That actually doesn’t sound like a bad plan.

 

“I won’t even barge in on you showering.”

 

Paul huffs.

 

“Alright.”

 

Hugh squeezes his knee and then lets go in a seemingly immediate execution of his promise, letting it fall between them on the couch. Paul promptly misses the contact, reaches out with his own hand to take it and blinks slowly.

 

“I love you too.”

 

 

*

 

 

For the next few days, Paul makes full use of it.

There’s nothing but the slightest touches when they greet each other or leave for their shifts. He tells himself it’s to make his brain understand that Hugh won’t push, and that he can trust him on that, but if he’s honest with himself he has been too busy trying to do what they always did to know what he actually wants.

 

Then eventually, things evolve into hugs, cuddles on the couch, and even the odd little kiss hello and goodbye. It’s nice, and Paul thinks it could be enough, it could stay like this for a while, if it weren’t for the way he sees Hugh silently sulk. He never says anything, does his best to look like everything is fine, but they have know each other long enough that Paul _knows_. And he sees the way Hugh lights up whenever he tries something more. So one day, he gets adventurous.

 

Hugh is very much on board when he gets up out of the blue and kisses him, passionately, to make his intentions known. Before long, he’s being pushed against the wall, the rough fabric of their uniform jackets scraping against each other before Hugh’s makes it’s way to the floor and they’re fully making out. A hand wanders downward questioningly, and Paul takes the cue to lift his leg, wrapping it around Hugh and pulling him in. He’s enjoying the new closeness it brings, the pressure in all the right places, and he’s fine. This is good.

 

Until Hugh’s movements become more insistent, his kisses more heated, his hand goes down to grab Paul’s ass and he’s thoroughly pressed against the wall, trapped there. He hums Hugh’s name warningly, and when there’s no reaction he moves a hand from Hugh’s neck to his chest and pushes decidedly.

The look he gets in return almost makes him regret it. Then Hugh sighs, and drops his hands from him, and it’s easier to breathe again. As he does so, Hugh tries to step back, but Paul keeps his leg around him and holds him in place. It was a warning, not necessarily a _stop_ , and he doesn’t want to give up the warmth.

 

“Paul, I- I can’t-”

 

He nods, even if he isn’t fully sure what Hugh is saying, but it’s clear he’s fucked up again. He lets go, keeping his head down so he doesn’t have to see his face when Hugh backs away.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Paul nods again.

He’s fighting back tears suddenly, trying to keep his composure, but out of the corner of his eye he can still see Hugh picking up his jacket. And shit, he’s going to notice Paul hasn’t moved yet, and he’s going to look at him and know exactly what’s going on, and-

 

“Fuck.”

 

Here we go.

There’s a hand landing on his shoulder and a lump growing in his throat when his efforts to shrug it off predictably go in vain. He raises his head to the side and shakes it, in answer to whatever question that might follow, keeping his gaze glued to the far wall as if it will stop Hugh from seeing the tear that has just escaped.

 

“Paul...”

 

“Don’t leave me,” he blurts out silently, because there’s no saving anymore now. “Please, I can’t loose you. Not… not over this.”

 

Breaking off, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath before slowly tipping forward so Hugh can carefully wrap himself around him.

 

 

*

 

 

Paul presses another kiss to his lips and then leans back, slowly opens his eyes, considering.

 

“Hm?” Hugh questions eventually.

 

“I wanna take this to the bed.”

 

Hugh raises his eyebrows. They have been making out on the couch after some convincing by Paul that this is what he wants right now. He’s straddling Hugh’s lap, both of them still in uniform, though Paul has lost his jacket and also opened Hugh’s as far as he could reach. There’s a hand wandering exploringly up his shirt but it stills as Hugh regards him.

 

“You sure?”

 

Paul shoots him a look.

 

“Alright,” Hugh laughs, moving his hands to be able to lift him and carries him across the room. Paul snorts, and slings his legs around Hugh’s middle to keep from falling until they hit the bed, where he elegantly loosens his hold and turns them around so he’s on top of Hugh, their legs tangled.

 

“Is this okay?” he asks, before leaning down to resume the kissing. Hugh hums, and raises one leg to let Paul closer.

 

“No complaints.”

 

His fingers find their way back to the hem of Paul’s shirt, tentatively feeling the skin underneath, waiting for either permission or rejection and Paul gives it by just pulling the thing off over his head. There’s an appreciative noise coming from below after he’s thrown it off the bed and though it doesn’t sit quite right with him he ignores it, instead rearranging their legs so he has better access to Hugh’s neck and ear, where he knows he’s sensitive. His ministration earn him another bout of ‘ _ah_ ’s and ‘ _yes_ ’ and ‘ _hm_ ’ that he doesn’t know what to do with, before Hugh decides to return the favor and finds his nipple, teasing it in a way that makes Paul’s breath stutter.

 

“Good?”

 

The wave of arousal washes over him like something grown foreign, and he lets it pass before forming an opinion.

 

“Yes.”

 

Hugh smiles, and promptly does it again. Paul presses closer, and when skin touches cold metal, he declares Hugh overdressed, motioning for him to lean forward so they can get him out of jacket and shirt with a joint effort.

 

The skin-on-skin contact is nice and he lets his fingers trail along Hugh’s torso before settling back down and working on a hickey on his collarbone. Hugh's hands are roaming everywhere, pulling him down against him, and when Paul sinks a hand into his pants he sucks in a breath.

 

“Oh god yes, mmh-ah, you’re so good.”

 

Paul frowns. That’s it.

 

“Have you always talked like that?”

 

He knows he has, and it’s the only reason he doesn’t accuse Hugh of mocking him as he pulls his hand back. It takes a while until Hugh’s brain has caught up.

 

“What?”

 

“You sound like a maniac.”

 

Hugh looks at him, dumbfounded.

 

“I’m enjoying myself.”

 

“It makes me uncomfortable.”

 

“Okay,” Hugh says and makes sure the soft kiss he gives him gets across that he’ll respect that before he playfully adds,

 

“You want me to stop enjoying it?”

 

Paul rolls his eyes.

 

“Can’t you enjoy it _quietly_?”

 

“I-”

 

“It makes me feel under-excited.”

 

It’s Hugh’s turn to frown and he leans back, clearly understanding less than before.

 

“...like you’re getting more out of this than I am. You’re obviously somewhere I’m not. And might not get to. It’s awkward.”

 

Paul doubts that Hugh really knows what he’s talking about, and the pensive noise he makes confirms it – it’s the same as when he looses him during a science ramble.

Of course Hugh wouldn’t be Hugh if he couldn’t look past that, and all that matters right now, is,

 

“I’ll try.”

 

He smiles, but before they can get back to it, the intercom interrupts them.

 

“ _Doctor Culber, please report to sickbay.”_

 

Paul moves immediately, pulling up his knees until he’s on all fours, detaching himself from Hugh’s body while the other groans.

 

“On my way.”

 

He lets Hugh roll off the bed from under him but stays where he is, still processing the situation. The interruption has definitely brought back the strangeness to it, as if pulling his mind from a dream, and when he turns to lay on his back he grimaces at the uncomfortable shift in his pants.

He can see Hugh darting around their quarters before returning almost fully dressed again to the bed, zipping up his jacket on the way.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaches for Paul’s cheek and leans down.

 

Paul tilts his head a tad and by now Hugh gets the hint, placing the kiss on his forehead instead.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yes,” he answers truthfully, before taking Hugh’s hand and pushing it back to him. “Go. See you later?”

 

Hugh nods.

 

“I’ll text you when I can.”

 

And then he’s out the door.

 

 

*

 

 

“You’re early.”

 

Paul scoffs and gets rid of his boots before the door has even closed behind him.

 

“My shift ended five minutes ago.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

He rolls his eyes and flops down next to Hugh on the bed, unwilling to discuss the utter incompetence of Starfleet officers he experienced. Picking up on it, Hugh starts to softly knead his shoulders and changes the subject.

 

“Have you eaten?”

 

Paul hums a noise that’s probably close enough to a yes.

 

“Good.”

 

Whatever Hugh is doing, it feels heavenly, and Paul soon forgets what he was angry about, melting into the touch until he’s leaning against Hugh and he has to stop his massage for lack of space. Instead he places the lightest kisses to Paul’s neck, making Paul turn his head to meet him for a real one, and when they part again after a while, the rest of their conversation happens non-verbally. The questioning look on Hugh’s face. The tensing of Paul’s shoulders in response. The small quirk of Hugh’s lips.

 

“I missed my chance, huh.”

 

“Don’t put it like that. You shouldn’t feel like you have to have sex with me whenever _I_ want just because the opportunities are rare.”

 

“I know.” Hugh slings his arms around Paul. “But that won’t be a problem very often. You’re irresistibly hot when you take control.”

 

He said it matter-of-factly, but Paul still pulls a face, and he can’t help a soft chuckle.

 

“Sorry. Are we back to _‘no, absolutely not, never, ew’_?”

 

Paul smiles at the impression of himself.

 

“No,” he says, “but… it’s more _‘I’d rather just cuddle until we fall asleep’_?”

 

Hugh grins.

 

“I can do that.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (partly rewritten 21. Feb 19)


End file.
